


Until the Night Falls

by cerulean_sin (am_bellanoire)



Series: The Captain and Her First Mate (Huma One-Shots) [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Deleted Scenes, Descendants 3 Spoilers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 17:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20362090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_bellanoire/pseuds/cerulean_sin
Summary: Loud shouts and swearing could be heard from a nearby alley, bouncing off of the crumbling brick. Someone screamed in the distance. The sound of someone being beaten out of a pretty penny brought up the rear. A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, signaling the approach of a cold, torrential downpour.They were well and truly home.





	Until the Night Falls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myperfectescape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myperfectescape/gifts), [Telinh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telinh/gifts), [jojo_sain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojo_sain/gifts).

After they had dropped Celia off at her father's arcade, Uma, Harry, and Gil wandered about the dirty cobblestoned streets of the Isle aimlessly for a while. There was no real need to keep time here. There was no sun or moon to mark the hours. The dark cloud that hung over the island kept those beams of light at bay. Always had. And it didn't matter either way. Loud shouts and swearing could be heard from a nearby alley, bouncing off of the crumbling brick. Someone screamed in the distance. The sound of someone being beaten out of a pretty penny brought up the rear. A crack of thunder rumbled in the distance, signaling the approach of a cold, torrential downpour. 

They were well and truly home. 

Uma crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing at the skin bared by her sleeveless vest. But there really was nothing she could do to keep out the chill. In Auradon, it had been warm. What the locals called _summer_. Summer didn't exist here. It was either too cold or too hot. Unbearably so. Normally, she could bear it, she had never really had a choice. But she had been gone for a year. She had spent a day on the other side. So now, the biting draft cut like a blade to her bones and there was no way to escape it. The chill only intensified as they neared the docks. In Auradon the waters had been blue, crystal clear, the surface glittering like jewels beneath the light of the sun. Here, it was grey, dingy, tinged with waste and grime. And it stunk, the odor of dead fish and decay assaulting her nostrils, cloying. The sea wasn't supposed to smell like that. No. She had known nothing but the fresh scent of salt and ice and freedom. This was not _right_.

She felt Harry's arm wrap around her waist. The gesture usually offered comfort but she was far passed comfort His touch only made the acrid scent intensify, made the chill that much more colder. She had failed them. They should have been in Auradon, celebrating their victory. And instead, she had led the most loyal of her crew back to the hell hole they had been trying to escape. 

She deserved to walk the plank for such treason. 

They walked silently up the gangway of the Lost Revenge. All was quiet save for the way the waves slapped the greying wood of the hull. Gil turned to his captain, his expression tight as he sensed the tension coming off of her like a riptide.

“I'll go check on everybody.”

Uma nodded and left him to that. For as skittish as he could be around her, for as childlike as he sometimes was in his enthusiasm, he was a loyal crew member and his strength was unrivaled. He'd knock a few heads together if he thought someone wasn't pulling their weight. And that's why he was her muscle. That's why he deserved to be tanning under the Auradon sun. Not stuck here to back her up. But he had made his choice, hadn't he? Like Harry had. Too bad she didn't feel as if she had given either of them much of an option. 

Gods she felt like _crying_. But she'd stab herself in the leg before she allowed such a betrayal of her own emotions to happen. Not right now anyway. Best to wait until she was alone. She could drown in her own misfortunes easier that way. 

There was something she needed to request first. Turning to her first mate, who sensed the shift now that they were by themselves and gave her his undivided attention as he always did. She knew he wasn't ready to bunk down yet. If anything he looked hesitant to abandon her side which suited her just fine. She wasn't quite ready to be by herself with her poisonous thoughts at the moment.

“I want some ink,” she announced, pleased at the steady tone that manifested around the hard lump in her throat. 

Even if he couldn't count, could barely tell time, Harry was a brilliant artist. Especially when it came to wielding a tattoo gun. He had marked everyone on their crew already. So he asked no questions as he led the way to his cabin. It was sparse, with only a netted hammock in the corner and a few pillaged items that she had allowed him to keep for himself after he had presented them to her, lit only by a half spent candle and whatever grayish glow filtered through the grimy porthole. He busied about the corner of the makeshift room pulling out the gear he used to tattoo. Aside from his hook, it was his most cherished possession, gifted to him by his sister. 

“Where?”

Settled into the hammock, with him kneeling on the floor, all the necessary equipment laid out with precision afore him, Uma shrugged herself out of her vest and yanked off the teal top beneath it. There was no shame or shyness here as Harry had seen her undressed before. He didn't even bat an eyelash because he always regarded her as if he had struck gold. But he could also sense the tension radiating off of her and decided not to press his luck. 

Uma gestured st the space around her collarbone, above her left breast. “Here.”

Harry hesitated , his brow furrowed as he paused between mixing the blue, green, and white ink to make her preferred shade of turquoise. “That's gonna hurt,” he warned. 

“No more than I'm hurting already.” 

The stormy look he received from his captain rewired the gears in his hands and he continued mixing the proper colors. He would need hues of black and gray and a bit of red to complete the picture he had already formed in his mind. He didn't press it further. 

Until of course the tattoo gun had started its soothing steady buzz and touched her skin. At first, his focus remained solely on the needle, going in an out of seemingly infrangible flesh, but then his ears caught on to a tinny sniffle and his gaze fixed on ebony eyes that swelled with tears. Though something in his chest seized, he did not pause in the image he was constructing, instead opting for humor as was his way whenever he witnessed unnecessary or rebellious emotion from the captain of the ship. 

“Oh come now darling,” he crooned sweetly, though a smirk planted itself onto his face, effectively hiding the concern that ached to swim forth and tempt the lax hand that wasn't holding the tattoo gun to swab the drop of wetness that chanced to wade down her sable cheek, “I thought ye were tougher than that.”

Uma didn't rise to the bait however. It was comical that he thought the little mosquito bite like sting of the needle would be enough to make her cry. No, her feelings ran far deeper than that. She felt stripped, as if she had been disarmed and at the mercy of a foe. 

“I failed you all.”

The humor left Harry's face immediately, his blue eyes darkening to the point where it looked like he harnessed a tempest within his pupils. The tattoo needle was raised and even though the hum didn't pause, the picture being painted took a back seat, 

“Ye did not.”

And he meant the words with every fiber of his being. Uma however couldn't be swayed that easily. She glared at him sidelong, her lashes dampened, her nose beginning to run. She sniffed to keep the snot at bay and to save face. But there was no need to do that when it was just her and her first mate. He didn't care about her appearance, appearances didn't matter when it was him and her alone. She didn't need to be tough, she didn't need to be hard. And that was enough to convince her to confess, “What was the point of me leaving then, of me staying away, if freedom wasn't the end game?”

“Ye gave us freedom.”

The tattoo gun resumed its work and Uma hissed at the sting of the needle. But just the same, her eyebrows rose at the statement and she lurched forward not even caring for a moment that the hair trigger movement might mean a crooked line. 

“And how the hell did I do that, Harry? My plan failed. It didn't work.”

“Ye let us decide,” Harry volleyed back, his tone just as fierce even though he didn't look up from what he was doing. He didn't have to anyway to know that his captain's face was etched with confusion, the vehement question poised like a honed blade on her tongue. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Ye heard what I said,” her first mate prattled on, unmoved by the venom in her tone. He had a job to do in perfecting this tattoo and he was going to see it done by any means necessary. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't going to help her see reason, “Yer the smartest on this crew, captain. Ye let us decide where we wanted to be. Ye really believe that whole dive through the barrier thing me and Gil did was spur of the moment. I may be madder than a hatter but me brain works just fine. The crew stayed behind to wait fer ye and me and Gil decided to storm Bore-a-don to look for ye.”

“Well ain't y'all sweet.”

“Ye were coming back to us whether we had to kill to get ye back or not.”

“I wasn't coming back unless I was sure I'd found us a way out.”

“And that's why yer the captain of this ship. I almost had to hook Jonas and Bonny a few times. They were the hardest to wrangle. Don't know how ye do it.”

“Years of practice.”

They were silent for a while then, nothing breaching the stagnant air save for the steady buzz of the gun and the creak of Harry's leathers as he shifted every so often to re-ink the needle. A solid hour might have passed for all the two of them knew as there was no way to tell time save for Harry's battered pocket watch and that lay on a pilfered end table on the other side of the room. 

“I'm almost done,” Harry announced, squinting a bit as he traded in the single needle for the pronged one to color in the outline. 

Uma sniffed as she shifted in the hammock, gritting her teeth at the intensified burn of the tattoo gun. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fold though, even if it was taking longer than she had anticipated. She cracked a crooked smile that easily hid her discomfort. 

“I can hardly feel a thing.”

“Yer just a brave lass is all,” Harry muttered with a snort, easily reading her even though he hadn't looked up from his work for some time. He had a crick in his neck that would need to be thoroughly massaged out but he knew it had nothing on what was doing on Uma's chest. It had to feel like a thousand bees were stinging her in the same spot over and over again yet she hadn't caved or called for a respite, “ Yer more steel than any cutlass.”

“Flatterer.”

“It hurts and I'm distracting ye well and proper. What kinda first mate would I be?”

“It does sting a little bit.” For her to even admit that, Harry knew she had to be hurting, reaching the limit of her already admirable pain threshold. Which meant he had to make a better effort in distracting her. He couldn't bear to see his captain in pain, physical or otherwise. 

“We'll find a way out,” he vowed, flashing his teeth in a wicked grin, “Don't ye worry, love. And it'll be yer doing. I know it.”

“All you know is piracy and pillaging,” Uma countered, trying at nonchalance but failing. She wanted to believe him, she truly did. But it was hard to. She had had two chances now and hadn't made good on either of them. She wasn't one of those heroes sitting behind their high walls. Would the third time really be the charm? Charms didn't exist on the Isle, King Ben and his beast of a daddy and Mal in all her leather winged glory had seen to that, hadn't they?

“And who says that's not the way out?” Harry wasn't about to allow her to go any further. He knew her will was strong but her nerve was stronger. She would find a new way out, he knew that, even if she didn't realize it yet. “Ye know for half a kraken yer - “

“Octopus.”

“I like kraken better. Ye know, we all saw ye turn. I always knew ye had it in ye to do it. What with yer mum being what she is.”

“Not as bad ass as a dragon, though.” Uma couldn't quite contain the self deprecating scoff at her own comment, especially at the look Harry aimed her way, letting it be known he did not under any circumstances agree with her sentiment. 

“Ye command the sea,” he bit out, fiercely enough that it drained the dry humor from Uma's face in an instant, “The waves bend to yer will, and so shall we. Nothing more bad ass than that. We ride with the tide, not the bloody sky.”

Well, she had no comeback for that. With as seriously as he had spoken the words, there was no way she could not take them to be true. Even if in her heart of hearts she knew short of Mal having a nervous breakdown about the whole barrier thing, they were done for. Still, he made her feel like there was hope left and that's what she loved about him. She wasn't going to say that aloud though. Instead she opted for a thankfully casual retort, “Are you almost done?”

Harry snickered, no doubt picking up on the hastily changed topic but choosing not speak on it. Good lad. 

“Ye wanna squeeze me hook for comfort?”

“Yeah, you wish,” The sea witch snorted with a mighty eye roll that cleverly concealed a wince. Yet she reached for the hook anyway, pointedly ignoring the smirk that tugged at the corners of her first mate's lips. She didn't need it for comfort. She just wanted to hold it. That was her story and she was sticking to it. So be it. 

It felt like another hour had passed but by that time, Uma had gotten used to the sharp jab of the needle. Her attention was fixed on the insane focus in Harry's eyes. Whenever he tattooed anyone, it was as if him, the gun, and the skin before him were the sole things that existed in the world. The fact that he was tattooing his captain for the first time though intensified his focus. She doubted nothing short of a typhoon could have broken the trance. And even then, only maybe. She almost jumped when he removed his foot from the pedal, putting a stop to the buzz of the tattoo gun, passing a dampened rag over the finish piece with a low whistle. 

“There now, all done.”

Uma took the cracked, grimy mirror Harry handed to her to observe the work of art that would be forever emblazoned into her skin. And her breath caught in her throat. There, below her collarbone, on the left side right where her heart steadily beat, was a vividly colored turquoise tentacle emerging out of a spray of sea foam, holding the gray cloud covered Isle encased in a glass ball in its grasp. Not a gluttonous, selfish squeeze, but a protective hold. And beneath the image were the words 'Long Live the True Queen'. 

It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Far more beautiful than coconuts and giant fish and emerald grass and berry bushes. And her eyes welled up with barb like tears once more but this time she did not make an attempt to dry them.

“Bloody hell, captain,” Harry teased, even as he used his thumb to brush the rolling droplets of salt from her cheeks, “A couple of hours on their turf and yer leaking like ye've struck an iceberg.”

“I love it.”

“Careful now, ye'll swell me head and we both know how dangerous _that_ might be.”

She was still crying and for his credit, Harry didn't speak on the tears anymore. He was catching them, though. As each drop fell, his calloused fingers were there, swiping them away like one would an annoying bug. But there was something gentle in his eyes. Something that Uma herself for as book learned as she was compared to rest of her crew had no name for. She could tell he hated to see her so emotional but she could also tell he would remain there, attacking each bad feeling as if it were an enemy, gutting them like a fish until nothing but smiles graced her face. And even though her chest burned and itched where the tattoo lay and even though her heart was heavy because she and her crew would be spending yet another night on their ship, she couldn't help but smile. Because she was where she was needed. Where she belonged. Even if it wouldn't be for long. She would get them out somehow, someway. 

“Ye promise ye won't founder on me darling,” Harry muttered with a wry grin as he crushed another traitorous tear beneath his thumb, “Yer taking on too much water.” So maybe he still had a couple of crying jokes left in him and to be honest, that suited Uma just fine. 

“Not a chance.”


End file.
